


All That I am

by WriterJunkie



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, quinntana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 10:04:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12528880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriterJunkie/pseuds/WriterJunkie
Summary: Struggling with the aftermath of her divorce, Quinn spends her days at work with late nights and excessive drinking.





	All That I am

Title: All That I am

 

“Quinn!” 

Quinn, groaned and rolled over to her side, ignoring the knocking. 

“Quinn.”  
She sighed and blinked the haze of her sleep. The knocking continued. Quinn frowned and let out a groan. Blearily, Quinn stared at her hand and sat up. She took in the surroundings of her study room and stretched her arms up above her head. A pinch of overstretched nerves ached at her shoulder and neck, having slept slumped over on her desk. The persistent knocking at her door rattling through her head. She exhaled and closed her eyes, feeling sleep lull her into a tempting slumber.

“I know you're home. Open up!” 

Quinn glanced at her blinking computer screen and read the gibberish of letters and she rubbed her sore cheek. She ran her fingers along the creases in her face from the keyboard imprints. Quinn stumbled out of her desk chair and padded through her condo. She sifted her fingers through her hair before opening the door. 

“What Rachel?” She said. 

Rachel peered over Quinn, who left the door open enough for herself to step through. Rachel eyed her suspiciously.

“I called you four times.” Rachel said. “Did you pull an all-nighter working?” 

Quinn groaned. Rachel had taken it upon herself to watch after Quinn, but she found Rachel a lot more nosy than caring when she made uncalled visits like this. Rachel stepped forward, trying to wedge her foot between the door and the threshold. 

“It's Friday, Rachel.” Quinn said. “I can do whatever I want.” 

“That is exactly why I'm here.” She said. “You should be spending it out partying and living it up. You're single.”  
Quinn sighed. 

“I don't have time for that.” She said. “I rather...I want to stay in.”

Quinn blinked back her tears, her lip trembling. The divorce didn't sink in yet, but she couldn't stop herself from wanting to cry. It's only been a month. Work had been a great distraction during the process, even if it meant working herself into exhaustion. Rachel's face softened. 

“I shouldn't have brought it up, sorry.” She said. 

Quinn bit her bottom lip. Rachel meant well. She cared for Quinn. In her own loud and obnoxious way she still cared for those close to her. Granted, this friendship took Quinn time to cherish, but Rachel had been the most supportive of her choices. A big difference than her father, who wanted nothing to do with Quinn once the divorce was pending. 

“Biff was a huge jerk anyway.” Rachel said. 

Quinn sighed. Another truth that she couldn't quite settle on. He had been everything Quinn never thought to date, a rich, handsome, and egotistical spoiled child. But her need to salvage what was left of her relationship with her father once her mother passed, drew her toward him. It turned out to be useless after four years together. She wanted to make amends with her father. It wasn't her proudest decision to marry Biff. Her father still judged her and never forgave her for her pregnancy in high school and Biff cheated. It was only right to end things.

“Are you going to let me in or what?” Rachel said. 

“Fine.” 

Rachel brushed pass Quinn and headed into the kitchen.

“You act like I impose myself on you.” Rachel said. 

Quinn chuckled and said, “You do.” 

Rachel spun around and scoffed. “Mean.” 

She opened the fridge. Quinn watched her from the island table. She knew early on, ditching Rachel became more than it bargained for, but Quinn never wanted to admit to her how much she needed Rachel around. If she didn't visit Quinn would still be working, not sleep for three days, probably crash at work or end up hospitalized. That cost time and that meant money too. Rachel shifted the contents inside the fridge. 

“What are you looking for?” Quinn said. “I'm not vegan. I don't need to hear you lecturing me on how sinful it is to eat bacon. Which I still refuse to give up.” 

Rachel stood up behind the door with a pitcher of orange juice in hand, “Okay, veganism is not a religion, also, I'm Jewish.” 

She took two cups from the cupboards and pour themselves a glass. Quinn took a sip, relishing the taste and remembered how most of her all-nighters included the lack of food or water as she became focused on her work. She downed the glass before Rachel could finish and ran her tongue along her bottom lip and eyed her keurig coffee maker. She needed coffee more than juice if she wanted to show up at the office on three hours of sleep. 

“Are you hungry?” Rachel said. 

Quinn raised a brow and folded her arms on top of the table. 

“Do my eyes deceive me?” Quinn teased. “Rachel Berry is offering to cook me breakfast? You can't even crack an egg without going animals rights activist on me.” 

Rachel huffed and folded her arms over her chest. 

“That is an exaggeration.” She said. 

Quinn squinted at her, “What do you want?” 

Rachel foreign disbelief and scowled. Quinn intently watched her rummage through her fridge again and placed milk, eggs, and a package of bacon on the counter. She opened the cupboard above the sink and took out a keurig coffee packet out. 

“You know,” She said, collecting the pans from under the island table. “That is insulting to our friendship. I don't come to you because I want something.” 

She turned on the coffee machine and found the pancake mix in the pantry closet. She did a double take to find that she found it in the cluster of cereal and took note of the disorganized pantry. 

“I get that your life is in a little bit of a rut, Quinn, but would it kill you to be organized a little in here?” She said. 

The coffee machine beeped and Rachel served the coffee, black, to Quinn.

“Quit being such a neat freak.” Quinn said. “I can find everything I need just fine.” Rachel cringed as she watched Quinn drink her coffee and made a second cup. She mixed the pancake mix with the eggs and milk in a bowl and turned on the stove. Quinn waited for her to serve breakfast before speaking again. Rachel sat across from Quinn as she cut into her pancake. 

“Stop avoiding the question.” Quinn said. “I know you want something.” 

Rachel sipped her coffee. Quinn took the silence to chow down her bacon before they carried this conversation. 

“Fine.” Rachel said. “Opening night is next week, but I'd like it for you to see me perform.” 

Quinn's shoulders dropped. Rachel had always tried to get her to come to her plays, but out of the dozen of invites Quinn has attended one and that was before dating Biff. Plays weren't his thing and to save arguing she'd avoid them too. 

“I know you'll be busy, but if you can't come at least come to the after party.” Rachel said. “We both know you need a little bit of fun in your life since the divorce.” 

Quinn rested her chin into the palm of her hand and jabbed at her half eaten pancake. 

“Please?” 

Quinn dropped her fork.

“Okay.” She said. “I'll come. But I won't stay long.” 

Rachel smiled.

“Thank you! I'll text you the address and date.” Rachel said. 

She walked around the island and hugged Quinn. She stepped back and looked her over, her brows dipped downward.

“You can talk to me, you know.” Rachel said, her voice laced with concern. “I know this is difficult.” 

“I know.” Quinn said. 

Rachel brushed her fingers through Quinn's fringe.

“Take it easy Quinn.” She said. 

Quinn heard the click of Rachel's heels as she let herself out. She pressed her forehead on to the table. This had become the outcome of her marriage. A unfaithful husband who had been cheating for years and then the divorce. She had gotten money out of the settlement, enough to get her a condo and a house if she wanted it. Her phone buzzed from her room. 

Biff  
When are you going to get your things? I want it done by the end of this month.

Quinn blinked away her tears. He was still such a dick. 

***  
Quinn wrapped her scarf closer around her neck, fighting against the brisk cold of the January winter. She hated winter. Although she was raised in Ohio most of her life, which had a winter of its own she still didn't adjust after moving to New York. The appeal of the snow in the middle of Manhattan lost its attraction a year into her stay. At least it hasn't snowed yet and the rush of New Year's Day was over. She entered the company lobby.  
“Hi James.” She said.  
The security guard greeted her before entering the elevator. Quinn spotted her assistant, Kurt behind his desk, at the end of the hall, answering phones and setting appointments into his computer. He waved as she made her way passed her, a phone pressed between his cheek and shoulder. 

“Good morning Quinn.” He said. “Your meeting with advertisement is in twenty minutes and I have your bagel and coffee on your desk.” 

“Thank you Kurt. I already ate. Rachel stopped by and made breakfast.” Quinn said, unlocking her office door. “Let's do lunch today.”  
She dropped her purse onto the desk and opened the blinds of her office. She paused, taking in the beautiful skyline view of New York City. The crisp ocean blue of the sky and the skyscrapers fading into the distance. Her office phone went off. 

“Hi, Quinn.” Kurt said. “Industrial Design wants to speak with you this week about the new product.” 

Quinn sighed. 

“Have a meeting for them today after lunch.” She said. 

It was going to be another busy day.

 

***

Quinn and Kurt decided on going to their usual breakfast and lunch cafe a block down from the company. She took a seat and fought back a yawn. Maybe she needed another coffee, especially after today's meeting. 

“So, how did the meeting go?” Kurt said. 

“Which one?” Quinn said, she noticed one of the waiters approaching them with menus.

“You work a lot more than I think you should.” Kurt said.

“So does Rachel.” 

The waiter placed the menus on the table. Quinn felt his blue eyes on her and she looked up to see him trying to fix any loose strains of his blonde hair. 

“Hi Quinn.” He said. 

“Hello Sam.” 

Kurt raised a brow at her over the menu. She glared at him. Sam gulped, pulling out his notebook from his apron. 

“Is there anything I can get you?” He said. 

“I'd like a cup of coffee and a panini sandwich please.” She said.

Sam smiled and took Kurt's order before leaving. 

“You didn't tell him what type of coffee.” Kurt said.

“He remembers.” Quinn said.

Kurt laughed, “He has such a crush on you. Why hasn't he asked you out yet?” 

Quinn sighed and ran a hand through her hair. 

“I'm not looking to date Kurt.” Quinn said. “Beside, he's just a kid.” 

Kurt glanced back over to the counter. Sam had rung up the order of another customer at the register. 

“He looks legal to me.” He said.

Quinn scoffed.

“Kurt, he looks 19.” She said.

“Oh, quit giving excuses. You're 27 and I'm sure he's a lot closer in age than you think.” Kurt said. 

Quinn frowned. 

“I'm not ready Kurt. It's only been a month since the divorce was finalized.” Quinn said. “I really rather focus on work. It's bad enough Rachel talked me into her play after party.” 

Kurt's eyes lit up in amusement. 

“Wait, what?” Kurt said. “Tell you are going?” 

Quinn twisted a piece of hair between her fingers and shrugged. 

“I don't know. Those types of parties aren't my thing.” Quinn said. “But she really wants me to be there.” 

“Tell her to invite me. I'll so go!” Kurt said. 

Sam returned with their orders.

“One large black coffee with three sugars and a mocha with an apple turnover pastry.” Sam said. 

Quinn watched his cheeks redden as he looked at her. 

“Thank you Sam.” She said.

He opened his mouth, but froze and left. Kurt laughed. Quinn glared at him.

“It's cute.” He said. “When is the after party?” 

“Next Friday.” She said. “It'll give me more time to think about it.” 

“It wouldn't kill you to have a little fun.” Kurt said. “You're still young. Just because a marriage didn't work, doesn't mean you have to put the final nail in the coffin of your love life. You're not 87.” 

Quinn chuckled and took a sip from her cup.

“Are you suggesting I become a party girl?” She said. 

“A little break doesn't kill anyone and since when is fooling around the new marriage proposal?” He said.

“One-nightstands?” Quinn said. “I'm beginning to see how you live your life.” 

Kurt rolled his eyes and said, “Oh stop it. I'm in a happy relationship with Blaine, but it looks like you need to learn to enjoy yourself.” 

“Thank you for the comment, Kurt.” Quinn said, sighing. “How I choose to go about the dating life is my choice.”

Kurt shrugged.

***

Quinn's always the last one to leave at the office. She goes through her usual talk with Kurt as he tries to get her to leave early for dinner to see a live band with Blaine. She's too driven on her work to accept and he's gone at 7. Quinn leaves at midnight. There is a different security guard at the front desk. 

“Another late night shift Ms. Fabray?” He said. 

“I'll see you tomorrow Jeff.” She said. 

***

She ordered pizza when she got home, too tired to cook. That's when Biff text again. He would never call her. He couldn't stand Quinn once she found out about the other woman. That turned out to be an ex-girlfriend that he met in college. At least it wasn't his sectary or assistant. That didn't make it hurt any less. 

Biff  
If you don't get your things this week. I'll pack your stuff and leave it outside.

Quinn huffed and took a large bite of her pepperoni pizza. She types with her right hand, while holding the slice of pizza in the other.

Quinn  
You said the end of the week.

Biff  
It needs to be done.

Quinn turned off her phone and puts down her pizza. She took a deep breath and gulped, feeling her tears slip down her cheek. He's such a jerk. Quinn feels a split second of sadness then wiped the tears away with the back of her hands. Then she's off the couch and back into her work office. 

***

Rachel visited her the next morning. The same knocking on her door and it's insistent. Quinn grunted and flopped out of bed. Her glare had little effect when opening the door.

“You didn't answer your phone again.” Rachel said. “Why have it if you're going to put it on silent?” 

She pushed passed Quinn. 

“I wanted to sleep in Rachel.” Quinn said. 

Rachel stood in the kitchen and turned around. Quinn noticed the gym wear she has on. Running sneakers, black leggings, and a sports wear t-shirt with her hair tied up. A white plastic bag hung off her hand.

“Did you come here after your workout?” She said. 

“We're going to the gym.” Rachel said. “I even bought you a water bottle.” 

Quinn scoffed.

“I just woke up and didn't eat.” She said.

Rachel fished around in her bag. 

“I brought you a smoothie and workout gear.” Rachel said. 

Quinn sighed. She took the bag and stomped into her room with a scowl. Thirty minutes later, she came out and downed the smoothie. She faced Rachel in the hallway. 

“Where are we going?” Quinn said.

“Yoga class.” Rachel said.

“What?” 

***

“See that wasn't so bad.” Rachel said.

She zipped through the sidewalk, leaving Quinn to cringe and limb through the crowd. The session had been an hour, but Quinn didn't know how she managed to get through it that quickly. 

“Everything hurts.” Quinn said. 

“That means it's working.” Rachel said. 

“It was embarrassing. The only thing I could do was sit.” Quinn said. 

“It's only the first session.” Rachel said. 

“There is more?” Quinn said. “Don't even think about dragging me to that hell.” 

Rachel laughed and said, “Alright. We'll try meditation then.” 

Quinn scowled. They reached Quinn's condo complex and took the elevator, because she's too sore and in pain, and incredibly lazy to take the stairs. 

“Alright, I won't drag you out then.” Rachel said. “I'm just worried about you. All that stress isn't good for you. Why don't you join a gym?” 

“I don't have-”

“Time. I know.” Rachel said. 

“But thank you Rachel, for trying.” Quinn said. 

The elevator stopped and the doors swooshed open. 

“Come on, I'll make lunch.” Quinn said. 

***

It's a repeat the next three days of working overtime at home. Quinn wakes up in her office only once. She shows up to work early, but leaves late. She got tired of take-out and gets a pre-made dinner before on the way home. That too gets tiring and Quinn decided to go shopping on Thursday and for a change she leaved work early. She sucked her courage to stop by Biff's place to start collecting her things. She pulled her Benz through the front gates of the estate and parked in the driveway. Quinn paused in front of the porch, taking in the beautiful chateau mansion. She gathered her shaking nerves and rung the door bell. Their house maid Alice answered the door.

“Ms. Fabray. Hello.” She said. 

“Hi Alice. I'm here to pick up my things. I won't be here long.” Quinn said. 

“Come in. I'll make you some coffee.” Alice said. 

Quinn clenched her hand around her purse and entered the foyer. She climbed up the two floors of the spiral stair-case and opened the master bedroom door. The bathroom door opened and Biff stepped out with his blazer draped over his shoulder.

“What are you doing here?” He said. 

Quinn kept her stance tall and her face stiff. 

“I'm packing.” Quinn said. 

“You could have called.” Biff said. 

“Considering you only gave me a week to move everything before it's tossed out. I didn't think you'd mind.” Quinn said.

Biff glared. 

“I won't be long. I'll take what I can in the car and come back another day.” Quinn said. 

“You have one hour.” He said. 

Quinn watched him leave the room. She sighed, feeling her hands shake at her sides. Then got to work. 

***

The incident with Biff passes. Quinn got most of her things put away and the rest she'll return for on Sunday. Then she's back to those early mornings and late night shifts. She almost forgot about the after party until Rachel texted her the day before. Quinn leaves early again to shop for a dress. It's Friday night before she knows it. Quinn settled on a burgundy skarter dress with straps that crossed over shoulder blades and matching heels. She fussed over her hair, indecisive on which suited the dress. It had been too long since she's gone out. She spent another thirty minutes styling her hair when Rachel texted her.

Rachel  
Where are you? Are you coming?

Quinn exhaled, blowing up a piece of hair from her eyes and straightened it. A few more attempted hairstyles, Quinn considered chopping her hair off, but settled on tying part of her hair back and braided it.

***

“You're here!” Rachel said, grabbing on to Quinn's wrist. “I thought you wouldn't show. Come on let's get you a drink.” 

Rachel led her to the bar in the back of the revenue and ordered two tequila shots. Quinn didn't plan to drink any, but Rachel had been too happy and proud of her successful opening night. Quinn knocked back the cup and placed an order for a rum and coke. 

“You have no idea who I ran into tonight.” Rachel said, guiding Quinn away from the bar. “I'm being recruited by a record label.” 

“What? That's amazing.” Quinn said. 

They cut through the crowd at the end of the dance floor and settled on a table to the left. 

“Yeah, her name is-”

“Quinn?” 

Quinn clutched her drink. A woman in a beautiful white satin dress approached them. Quinn felt her stomach twist into a knot. 

“Wait, you two know each other?” Rachel said. 

Quinn opened her mouth, but hadn't been able to speak. She kept staring. Quinn stared at the same luscious long jet black locks and even brown skin. 

“Santana, hi.” Quinn said. 

Santana took a seat. Rachel looked between them, in astonishment. Quinn gulped, trying to ignore Rachel's mischievous smirk. 

“How have you been?” Santana said.

Rachel intensively watched them. Quinn ran her fingers through her hair and timidly smiled. 

“You know, I'm just gonna...I'll be at the bar.” Rachel said. 

Santana shifted closer, “I haven't since you since...you know.” 

Quinn looked away in guilt. They never talked once she transferred high schools. They haven't even talked about the baby either. Things between them had drifted apart. Quinn was different then. She let her parents dictate her life and once it got out she was pregnant and out of wedlock no less, her father had her sent to an all girl private school. Thing weren't the same since she came back for the holidays. 

“I didn't expect to see you here.” Santana said. 

The only thing on Quinn's mind after graduating was getting into Yale and moving to New York. Quinn took a large gulp of her drink. She would need another cup after this if she was going to have a reunion with her childhood friend. Santana at least didn't slap her like she's done before so that was a good sign. 

“Rachel invited me. We've been friends since college.” Quinn said. 

“That annoying hobbit is your friend?” Santana said. “I thought you had better taste.” 

Quinn chuckled.

“Rachel's a little abrasive, but she means no harm.” She took another gulp. “What are you doing here?” 

“I was sent to recruit her.” Santana said. “She's been getting a lot of attention from music companies for a few years.” 

Quinn ruefully nodded. Rachel had been ambitious during her time in college. She had been auditioning and landing roles before graduating. Quinn felt a sense of pride as Rachel's hard-work had started to pay off. She raised a brow at Santana.

“So, record label company?” 

“I don't own it, but I've been working my ass off to be the head producer.” Santana said. “What about you?” 

“I'm the CEO of a computer tech firm.” Quinn said. 

Santana rose a brow. 

“Impressive.” She said. 

“What?” 

Santana shrugged and said, “Nothing it's just-look at us.” She picked up her cup and took a swig. “Two successful and super hot chicks on our way to the top.” 

Quinn laughed. It had been a feat Quinn had been driven to do since the birth of Beth. Her father had been so sure her future was over once she told him about the pregnancy. That had been enough fuel to do whatever it took to enter Yale. Russell didn't care to ask about the father and that saved her a greater deal of shame too. She stopped speaking with Puck once she changed schools. She met Finn in Yale as he was currently stationed there and they dated, until he left. Then met Biff a year after. 

“You look amazing in that dress.” Santana said.

A flush of heat raced into Quinn's cheeks. She noticed Santana had moved even closer. She kept her gaze at the table and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. 

“How are you and Britt? You two were attached by the hip in high school.” Quinn said. 

“We're divorced.” Santana said. 

“Oh,” 

Quinn didn't hear about the marriage. But when she came back from her first year of boarding school things had changed between them. Santana came out and the last Quinn heard before their friendship drifted and Quinn stopped showing up at her place for the Holidays, Brittany and Santana were dating. 

“I'm sorry I...”

Santana shrugged.

“We changed and Britt wanted different things.” Santana said. “It's been five years. I've had plenty of time to get over it.” 

Quinn finished the last of her drink. She didn't expect Santana to be this calm about divorce. During their time in high school Santana always had been hot-headed and blunt about everything, especially people that pissed her off. 

“I trust you've had better people since you let man-whore Puck stick it to you.” Santana said.

Quinn looked down in guilt. She's visited the school years ago once she heard about the closing of Glee club. Santana had been the one strongly against Biff. That didn't make things between them any better either. 

“Wait, you aren't with that stuck up dickhead from Yale are you?” Santana said. 

“We just got divorced. A month ago.” Quinn said. 

Santana scoffed.

“You mean you went through with that snob of a prick?” Santana said, watching Quinn nod. Santana eyed her empty cup. Santana shook her head. “We shouldn't be talking. We should be getting drunk.” 

“Shouldn't I be drunk?” Quinn said. 

“Yeah, but I'm not gonna let you have all the fun.” Santana grabbed Quinn's wrist and said, “Come on.” 

***

Santana dragged Quinn through the hall of her complex, with a arm wrapped around her hips. They wobbled to the door at the end of the hall and Quinn pressed a hand against the wall to keep herself from colliding into it face first. 

“Be careful Quinn.” Santana said. 

Quinn laughed and latched on to Santana, dragging her to the left. Santana pulled the opposite direction to keep her balance.

“Jesus, Quinn, I'm trying to get you inside. Stop moving.” Santana said.

“Why?!” Quinn yelled. 

Santana reached the door of her apartment and took out her keys. 

“Shhh, not so loud.” Santana said. 

“Are you trying to get into my pants too?” Quinn whispered. 

Santana did a double take and Quinn looked up at her. 

“I'm gonna ignore that you said that Q.” Santana said. 

She unlocked the door and dragged Quinn inside. They pass the couch and Quinn bend over to try and flop on it, but Santana keeps her up. 

“I have a bed you can stay on.” She said. 

Quinn pouted, staring at the couch and allowed herself to be pulled into the bedroom. She placed Quinn down, but she drops herself on the mat like dead weight, her face pressed into the pillow. Santana rummaged through her dresser to gather spare clothes for Quinn and took her dress off first to change. She turned around and Quinn stared at her, sitting up and her face flush but her eyes stern and dark. Santana felt a pang of embarrassment that Quinn had been watching her but shook it off and threw her clothes on to Quinn's lap. 

“Put these on.” Santana said. 

Quinn laid back in bed with a sigh. 

“Tired.” She said. 

Santana sighed and zipped down Quinn's dress. She doesn't put up a fuss and Quinn sat up before she could take her straps off. She looked at Santana, her expression sad and her brows furrowed. Quinn bit her bottom lip, looking Santana over and lingered on her lips before exhaling. Santana gulped, keeping her eyes on Quinn's green and hazel eyes. 

“I'm sorry San.” Quinn whispered. “I should have...I wish things were different.” 

Quinn blinked away the build of her tears and turned away. Santana sits in silence for a moment, not sure where to start. The years of friendship still fresh in her head, but how quick it fell apart from one stupid mistake had been remarkable. Santana brushed away a tear before it fell. Quinn exhaled and faced her. Her expression softer, less anguished. Santana remained still, waiting and watching Quinn decide what to do. They move closer and Santana's jaw clenched. Their lips brush together, the softness of Quinn's upper lip against her bottom one made Santana shiver. She pulled back, standing at the side of the bed. Quinn frowned. 

“I'm going to get us some water.” Santana said. “I think you're a big girl to be able to dress yourself.”  
Quinn glared. Santana left. When she returned with a cup Quinn stood in a XL white t-shirt and left the shorts on the bed. 

“It's too hot.” Quinn said. 

She took the cup and chugged it down. 

“Good night Quinn.” Santana said. 

She pouted, but got into bed. 

“Night.” she mumbled. 

***

Quinn woke up with a pounding headache. She blinked at the ceiling before taking a moment to scan the room. Nothing in this room belonged to her, down to the red quilt wrapped around her.

“What?” She said. 

The room door opened and Santana entered, dressed in a white t-shirt and sweat pants. Her hair tied into a ponytail, her fringe framing her face, and a pair of glasses. Quinn gulped. Santana stood at the foot of the bed her arms crossed over her chest. 

“Good, you're up.” She said. “I have Advil and water in the kitchen. Can you stomach anything?” 

Quinn groaned and rubbed her eyes. She sighed. The water and Advil sounded much more appealing than food. 

“What time is it?” Quinn said. 

“2 o'clock.” Santana said. 

Quinn struggled out of bed, pressing a hand against her forehead as it throbbed again. 

“What happened?” Quinn said. 

Santana laughed. 

“We got shit-faced, just like the old times at Puck's basement parties.” Santana said. “You're a weepy drunk now.” 

Quinn scoffed and raked her fingers through her tussled hair. She stood and ran a hand over the hem of a loose fitting grey to, that stopped an inch below her hips.

“Why am I not wearing any pants?” 

Santana shrugged.

“You insisted on not wearing any.” She said. “Are you going to eat or not?” 

“I could really use that Advil.” Quinn said.

She allowed herself to be guided into the kitchen, still caught in a haze. The smell of coffee and bacon made her stomach grumble. Santana slid a plate over to her at the table. She handed her the cup of water and Advil from the counter. 

“I don't remember anything.” Quinn said. “I'm too old for the party life. Even my body hurts.” 

Santana watched her knock back the two pills and chugged the entire cup of water. She fought against telling her the incident in her bedroom, but she knew Quinn enough to know she'd freak out if she told her. 

“You're 27 Quinn.” Santana said. “Marriage and divorce hasn't made you an 80 year old grandma.” 

Quinn scowled. She picked up her bacon and ate it. Having spent four years with Biff had sure drained the energy out of her. His high expectations and demands had kept her too busy making things work between them, she had little time to enjoy time alone to relax. It hasn't changed since the divorce either. 

“You've changed.” Santana said. “You weren't easily defeated.” 

Quinn's eyes cast downward. Everything about her life changed. The way she tried to fix what was left of her relationship with her parents. Then the birth of Beth. The adoption and her relationship with Santana. She had no more spirit left to fight. She had enough dignity to not tell Santana that defeat. 

“We both did.” Quinn said. “You actually married Brittany.” 

Santana raised a brow. 

“What's wrong with that?” She said. “She was around after you left.” 

Quinn frowned. 

“Okay, I-” 

Quinn's phone cut through the conversation from the bedroom. She gave Santana a dejected look before leaving. She picked up on the second ring.

“Yes, Rachel?” She said. 

“Thank god you're alive!” She said. “You left the party without saying goodbye and you never answered your phone.” 

“Don't be dramatic.” Quinn said. “I'm fine. Santana got me to drink myself into a coma and I crashed at her place.” 

“Ohhh, Santana huh?” Rachel said. 

Quinn rolled her eyes. 

“We're old friends from high school Rach.” Quinn said. 

“Call it what you want, but I know what I saw last night.” Rachel said. “Santana is into you.” 

Quinn's jaw clenched. She took a moment to recollect her thoughts. She had no interest to date, a woman at least, and evermore so, Santana. A childhood friend who she no longer knows. 

“Don't be delusional.” Quinn said. “I'm getting ready to leave. You can stop pestering me.” 

“Wait, I called to see if you wanted to have dinner.” Rachel said. “You can invite Santana, or would you like to be alone?” 

Rachel giggled. 

“Good bye Rachel.” Quinn hung up. 

“Everything alright?” Santana said, washing her dishes in the sink. 

“Yeah, I'm gonna start heading home.” Quinn said. 

“Your clothes are in the top drawer.” Santana said. “We should catch up some time. Keep in touch.” 

Quinn hesitated at the doorway. If Santana had been willing to put the past behind them, why couldn't she do the same? They were kids then. Teenagers that were stupid and reckless. 

“Uh, yeah, let me write my number down for you.” Quinn said. 

***

Quinn showered when she got home. Then unpacked her boxes from Biff's place. She managed to unload one box, before texting Rachel for dinner. She didn't invite Santana. Having to spend a dinner with Rachel would be enough, as she will nag Quinn about her night and time spent with Santana, while still insisting that Santana is much more interested in Quinn than she let on. She's dressed when Rachel comes over. They go ten minutes with casual conversation and that's a new record coming from Rachel because she can't seem to keep her big mouth shut when she wants something. 

“You aren't gong to ask Santana on a date?” Rachel said. 

Quinn sighed, placing her fork on her plate. 

“For the last time Rachel, no. We are old high school friends.” Quinn said. 

“You two have a lot of history and a lot of tension.” Rachel said. “I'm sure I'm not the only one seeing it.”

“I want to become friends with her again. We lost touch over the years.” Quinn said. “It would be nice to have the only good thing that came from my teenage years. I'm also not gay.” 

Rachel scoffed and tilted her head. She squinted at Quinn.

“That's exactly what a gay person would say.” She said. 

Quinn coughed. 

“But for your sake, we can call it bi-curious then. Every girl has experimented at least once. I did in college.” Rachel said. 

Quinn cupped a hand over her mouth and gazed at the table. She took a deep breath and shook her head. 

“We are not having this discussion.” She mumbled. 

“I mean statistically-” Rachel said. 

Quinn's phone goes off. She quickly reached into her pocket.

Santana  
I'm glad we met up again. Let's have dinner or lunch tomorrow.

“Is it Santana?” Rachel said. 

Quinn  
I'm free for dinner tomorrow at 8.

Santana  
Dinner at my place then. 

Quinn smiled. Rachel reached over the table and snatched her phone.

“Hey!” 

“Oh it is!” Rachel laughed. “And she wants to have dinner. You can't seriously tell me she isn't interested in you.” 

“It's what friends do. Look at us.” Quinn said.

“Don't be so naive Quinn.” Rachel said. “You have to tell me the details when you're done.” 

She handed the phone back and Quinn glared. 

“I will not.” She said. “Because it isn't a date! This is not a date!” 

They enjoy the rest of their dinner, no more talks about Santana and Rachel is on her way home after. For the first time this month, Quinn went straight to bed instead of her usual late night work sessions. 

***

Quinn comes into work for a change after nine. She entered the lobby of the tech firm lobby.

“Is everything okay Ms. Fabray?” The security guard said. 

“I decided to stay in a little.” Quinn said. 

The elevator opened and she watched it take her to the 10th floor. Kurt raced out from his desk. A stricken expression on his face. 

“There you are. I thought you hit by a bus on the way here or kidnapped.” Kurt said. “You never come in this late.” 

Quinn laughed. 

“You're the second person to ask me. I wanted to sleep in a little.” Quinn said. “I'm fine.” 

She took off her coat and Kurt looked over her dress of choice. A beautiful deep green dress cut off at the thigh with matching heels. 

“Oh, who are you trying to impress?” Kurt said. “Are you going on a date after?” 

Quinn fought against her blush. 

“I wanted a change.” Quinn said. “I'll be in my office.” 

***

“I'll see you tomorrow Kurt.” Quinn said. 

She brushed pass him, putting on her coat. He followed her out toward the elevator and glanced at the clock. Quinn brushed a hand through her hair. 

“You're going home early?” He said. 

She pressed the down button and waited for the elevator. Quinn faced him. She had an hour to change and prep herself before heading to Santana's place. The elevator opened.

“Enjoy your date.” Kurt said.

The doors closed before Quinn could correct him and Kurt grinned. 

***  
Quinn looked herself over a second time in the review view mirror of her car before exiting. She spent thirty minutes picking an outfit and decided if it weren't a date that she wouldn't need a dress. Three outfits later, Quinn got into her car in a pair of slim fit blue jeans and a white v-neck t-shirt with a grey sweat shirt. She decided to have her hair tied up into a high ponytail and her bangs framing her face at the side. A part of her was out of place in normal clothing. She's spent years and long hours in her formal business clothes. The change was refreshing. Quinn inhaled and greeted the doorman in the lobby. She felt her phone buzz and fished it out of her purse. 

Rachel  
You're having dinner at her place? That is such a date!

Quinn rolled her eyes and entered the elevator. 

Quinn  
I am not having this conversation again. I'll see you this weekend.

Rachel  
Ohh, give me the details after. Remember, no putting out on the first date. You're better than that Quinn Fabray.

The doors opened and Quinn shut off her phone when she got into the hall way. She walked down the first two hall ways and stopped at the first door on the right. Quinn inhaled before knocking and bit her bottom lip. She's known Santana all her life. She couldn't have been that different than their high school years. The door opened and Quinn's hand clenched on the handle of her purse.

“Hey, you're on time.” Santana said. “Come in.” 

Quinn looked her over as she entered. Santana stood in a pair of sweat pants, a black long sleeve shirt, her hair wavy, and a pair of glasses on her face. But she had still looked as gorgeous when Quinn saw her at the after party. Santana took out a few cans of soda from the fridge and set them on to the coffee table. 

“I didn't have the chance to cook after work, so we're having take out. I hope you don't mind.” Santana said. 

Quinn set her bag on the table and sat on the couch. 

“Oh no, I don't mind.” Quinn said. 

“I ordered pizza. It'll be here soon.” Santana said. “You can pick out a movie for us. It's on the shelf.” 

Santana pointed to her collection beside the TV and Quinn approached the display case. Santana went back into the kitchen. Quinn picked up a DVD and returned to the couch. The doorbell went off and Santana paid the delivery boy. “Did you pick one yet?” She said. Santana placed the pizza box on the table and served them. Quinn handed her the DVD case. “This one.” She said. Santana read the cover and scoffed. “Really? West Side Story?” She said.

Quinn arched an eyebrow. “I’m surprised you even have it.” She said. “Glee rubbed off on me.” Santana opened the case and put it into the DVD player. Quinn turned off the lights and settled on to the couch. Santana handed her a plate with two slices on it and Quinn leaned back into the couch and took a bite of her first slice. She savored the greasy and salty flavor topped with bacon. Santana settled next to her and Quinn glanced at her. The light of the TV reflected off her glasses. Quinn took in her attractive side profile, the soft curve of her nose and pouty lush lips. Santana faced her. “What?” She said. Quinn licked her lips and brushed back her fringe. She stared into her plate. “Nothing.” She said. “I’m glad we can do this again. Watch movies and, you know, be friends again.” Santana smiled. “Me too.” She said. She focused back to the movie and Quinn went back to finishing off her pizza.  
***  
“I feel like a cow.” Quinn said. “You ate three slices.” Santana said. She shut off the TV and closed the pizza box with only three slices remaining. Quinn groaned. She sighed and laid back onto the couch. “I was hungry.” She said. Santana collected the dishes and put them into the sink. She came back into the living room with two flutes. “Come sit on the patio with me.” She said. Quinn strained to put herself back up and watched pass her and open the door to the balcony in the living room. “In the middle of winter?” Quinn said. Santana sighed. She drew back the curtains. “You brought a coat didn’t you?” Quinn retrieved her coat from the closet and took Santana’s with her. Santana had the cups on the small round table and went back inside. Quinn bundled up her scarf around her neck and mouth before taking a seat. Santana returned with a box of cigars and an ashtray. “Ugh, you still smoke those?” Quinn said. Santana shrugged. “I like the taste.” She said. “Why did you bring wine glasses?” Quinn said. “We don't have a bottle.” She entered the house again and handed Quinn another box, white in color. She grabbed it and laughed. “You’re kidding me? Boxed wine?” Quinn said. “We haven’t-” “Drank that since middle school.” Santana said. “I blame you for that. You’re such a bad influence.” Quinn said. “Everyone does underage drinking.” Santana said. “It tasted awful.” Quinn said. Santana opened it and poured them each a glass. Quinn cringed. “Humor me.” Santana said. She picked up her glass. Quinn followed. They held their glasses out. “To old friends.” Santana said. They clinked their glasses and took a sip. Quinn frowned and coughed. Santana kept a much more straight face and laughed. “That’s worse than I remember.” Quinn said. “You just have acquired a fine taste from your fancy upscale life.” Santana said. Quinn took another sip and put it down. “I can’t drink this.” She said. “We’re finishing the box.” Santana said. Quinn groaned. Santana lit her cigar and took a puff. A wisp of smoke trailed into the sky. The first cup, they didn’t speak. Quinn looked out into the city and Santana continued to smoke her cigar. The second glass Quinn felt more relaxed. “I miss this.” Quinn said. “Spending time together.” “Even with me being such a bad influence on you.” Santana teased. Quinn laughed. “I’d never find a friend as honest as you.” She said. “Even if it made me wanna slap you.” Santana chuckled and let out another puff of smoke. “We fought a lot.” Santana said. “Oh plenty of times.” Quinn said. Two more drinks and the box was empty. Quinn has been tipsy enough to wobble her way back inside and Santana tossed the box out. She snubbed out her cigar and saved it for later in her cigar box. “I can’t...drive like this.” Quinn said. “You can spend the night.” Santana said. “Yeah okay.” “I have pjs in my room down the hall.” Santana said. Santana tended to the dishes in the sink and Quinn made her way into the bedroom. She dug through the dresser and pulled out grey shorts and a black shirt. She noticed a jewelry box on top. It had been carved of some type of wood, probably oak, and had a latch on the lid. She opened it and inside had been diamond earrings, golden bracelets, and necklaces. Quinn sorted through them and found a small picture at the bottom of the box. Quinn took it out and examined it. It had been a picture of her and Santana in high school, at McKinley high school stadium. They were hugging each other and in their Cheerios outfit. The picture had been taken at their freshmen year when they made the team. Quinn gulped. At the side drawers of the jewelry box, Quinn spotted a bracelet with green plastic beads around it. “Are you dressed?” Santana said.

Quinn stuffed the picture back into the jewelry box and closed the lid. The bracelet still in her hand. Santana didn’t knock when she entered. Santana eyed her.

“You didn't change.” She said.  
“You kept it?” Quinn said.

Santana noticed the bracelet in her hand. She steadily walked over, keeping eye contact with Quinn as she moved. “Yes.” Santana said. “It’s stupid I know, but it grew on me.” Quinn looked at the bracelet. It had been far from stupid. Of course, Santana at the time thought it was a waste of time when they made it in Quinn's room, two days before high school started. How Quinn made her promise before giving it to her that they’d always remain friends. That they wouldn’t let a silly boy break them apart. She looked up, seeing how close Santana stood in front of her, her eyes soft and alluring. Quinn sniffled. “I’m sorry.” She said. “I-I...” “It's in the past Q.” Santana said. Quinn blinked back her tears. Santana took back the bracelet and put it down. Quinn shook her head and bit her bottom lip. “I was so stupid.” Quinn said. “Says the girl who got into Yale.” Santana said with a chuckle. “You're so much more than you think Quinn.”

Quinn gazed back into her eyes and exhaled. She leaned forward, reading Santana's expression. Quinn can't remember the time she's seen someone look so smitten with her. Quinn pulled her by the neck and kissed her. Santana wrapped her arms around Quinn's hips and pinned her against the dresser. Quinn moaned. She pulled away, her face flushed and her chest heaving. “We can’t...we’re drunk.” Quinn said. “I...this isn't...” Santana sighed and brushed her nose against Quinn’s. The wetness of her tears coated Santana’s cheeks. She cupped Quinn's face and rubbed her thumb along her bottom lip. “Quinn.” Santana whispered. Quinn licked her bottom lip and Santana watched her tongue. Quinn gulped. Her hands clenched in anticipation. She’s never wanted a person as badly as Santana. The strong attraction to her. 

“It's okay.” Santana said. 

Santana dipped down to kiss her again and Quinn moaned. Stepped back and sighed. She buried her face into Santana's neck. Everything with her had been different. The way Santana looked at her, full of affection and adoration. The touch of Santana against her. The softness of her skin and the groove of her hips. Quinn shivered. 

“I'm sorry can we just take-my head is spinning.” Quinn said. 

Santana chuckled and stroked her hair. She smiled, soaking in Quinn's dazed expression. She looked a lot like the Quinn from high school. Less confident, emotional, frustrated, and overwhelmed. 

“Yeah.” Santana said. 

Quinn slipped her fingers through Santana's. They stood close together, Santana trying to gauge the level of the situation and Quinn trying to breathe normally to avoid a panic attack. Santana laid a delicate kiss on her forehead. A flare of desire settled into the pit of Quinn's stomach. She gazed up and Santana wiped away one of her tears.

“I'll take the couch.” Santana said. 

Quinn gulped and squeezed Santana's hand. 

“Okay.” Quinn said. 

She flinched as Santana's hand slipped from her's and she watched Santana leave the room. Quinn sniffled and wiped away the last of her tears. 

***  
Quinn left an hour before sunrise. She didn't wake Santana and changed, then she drove home. The more she thought about their encounter, the more Quinn couldn't stop herself from panicking. The strong emotion she has felt, even more powerful than her time with Puck, Finn, and even Biff. But the memories of them as a kid had brought sour feelings to the entire night. Santana had been her friend. They were best friend. Quinn got home and a long shower and made a cup of coffee. There’s a knock at her door when she is about to enter her office room. Quinn hesitated to answer it.

“Quinn?” Rachel said. 

She let out a sigh of relief and let Rachel in.  
“I tried calling you.” Rachel said.  
“I turned off my phone.” Quinn said. “I stayed at Santana’s.”  
Rachel turned around and looked Quinn over.  
“Wait, did you...”  
Quinn shook her head and said, “No, we didn't, but I wanted to.” 

Rachel frowned. 

“Why are you here then?” 

Quinn's face filled with guilt.  
“I panicked and left.” She said.  
“What?!” Rachel said.  
“I couldn’t face her. Rachel, we were drunk when we kissed and I...” Quinn said. “I’m freaking out! I’m not...she’s my best friend. I just started talking with her and then I almost sleep with her? Everything is wrong.”  
“Oh, you’re one of those closeted gays.” Rachel said.  
Quinn flinched. She rushed into the safety of her work office and locked it. Quinn turned on her phone to see she received three missed calls from Santana, three voice mails, and eight text messages. She read the last text. Santana Can we talk please? “Quinn, don’t freak out.” Rachel said. “Quinn?” She leaned back against the door and sighed. Quinn looked up at the ceiling and ran a hand through her hair. Rachel knocked. Everything became a bigger mess than her divorce. Quinn shut off her phone and slid down to the floor. She hugged her knees and weeped. “Please Quinn open the door.” Rachel said. “We can talk about it.” “No, I don’t want to talk about it.” Quinn said. “Okay fine. I’ll make some tea and we can watch a movie or go out.” Rachel said. “Just don’t lock yourself inside.” Quinn rested her head on to her knees and sat in silence for a moment. “You’re not alone Quinn.” Rachel said. “I’m here for you. We can talk when you’re ready.” Several more minutes passed before Quinn stepped out. Rachel hugged her and Quinn got teary eyed again. “I’ll make you dinner and we can binge an entire tub of ice cream.” Rachel said. Quinn sniffled. “Thanks.”  
*** 

She gets back into her nightly routine on Monday. The long work hours, late nights working, early mornings, and after hours in the office. She doesn't return Santana's calls and doesn't text her back. Rachel checked in her a few times, but Quinn declined spending time together and she picked up the last of her things at Biff’s place. She ignored seeing his soon to be wife and it's out of her mind when she's on the road again. Quinn can't sleep when she's home and the only way she can stop her self from thinking about Santana or the night with her is when she's worked herself into exhaustion. Then her nights at home change by the third night. Quinn drinks. First it’s a bottle of wine, but by Friday it's a bottle and a half and when she finishes it, Quinn is a crying mess. She adjusted to show at work hungover. Saturday morning, Rachel pound at her door and Quinn groaned as her head ache and stumbled out of bed. Quinn squinted at her, the door slightly ajar. Rachel glared at her. “You’re drinking now?” Rachel said.  
“I had a rough day at work.” Quinn said.  
“Quinn I’m worried. You don’t come out anymore and the only time you do it’s for work.” Rachel said. “When's the last time you ate?”

“I had food last night.” Quinn scoffed.

Rachel pushed forward to wedge the door open. Quinn fought to keep it closed and in their struggle Rachel gets enough space to put her foot in and Quinn stumbled back. Rachel entered and looked over the condo. There are multiple boxes of pizza and take out containers on the kitchen counter. 

“It's a mess in here.” Rachel said. 

“I was going to clean today.” Quinn said. 

Rachel scoffed. 

“I'm sure you were. Clearly you need me.” Rachel said. “Sit down. I'll make you coffee and clean up. Please tell me you at least went food shopping so I can cook something for you?” 

Quinn ignored her and flopped on to the couch, laying into a pillow face first to will her headache away. She can hear the clank of dishes and the shuffle of containers being tossed. Then she's back to sleep. Rachel woke her when the food is finished, which is a bunch of pancakes and toast. 

“I found your Advil.” Rachel said. “In the pantry, of all places.” 

Quinn took the pills first with water then chowed down on the pancakes. Rachel finished cleaning up the living room. When Quinn finished the pancakes, Rachel took the plate. 

“I can't stand looking at you like this any longer.” Rachel said, re-entering the living room. “You're coming with me to my celebration party.” 

“What?” Quinn said. 

“If you turned on your phone for a change. I sent a text saying I have been signed under that record label.” Rachel said. “The contract was signed last night. I'm going out with my theater friends at The Carlyle.” 

“That's great Rachel.” Quinn said. “But I-”

Rachel glared. 

“You're going. Buy a new dress if you have to. I'm coming to get you at 7.” Rachel said. 

Quinn sighed. 

“Alright.” Quinn said. 

***

True to her word, Rachel arrived exactly at 7pm. She looked over Quinn's beautiful deep blue dress and admired the lace material at the top with a deep v-neck line that exposed the valley between her breast. Quinn had her hair loose and ringlets at the edges. 

“You look great Quinn.” Rachel said. “Let's go. Everyone is already there.” 

They take Rachel's car and Quinn as second thoughts of turning back in. She can't leave on her own being that they're sharing a car. They reach the restaurant thirty minutes later, after having to deal with New York City traffic and they are led by the host to a private room in the back of the restaurant. Rachel is floored with guest, hugging her, kissing her, and congratulating her on her success. 

“Rachel you made it.” A guy said, approaching her from the bar table. 

They hug and Rachel hung an arm around his shoulder. 

“Quinn this is Blaine. He's one of my cast-mates.” Rachel said. 

“Nice to meet you.” Blaine said. “You should have drinks with us. We're having shots.” 

“Oh, no I think I've had enough of drinking for today.” Quinn said. 

“I'll meet you there Blaine.” Rachel said.

“It was nice meeting you Quinn.” He said.

He left and Rachel faced Quinn, a look of concern on her face. 

“Are you okay?” Rachel said. “I know you didn't want to come out, but you can't stay locked up either.”

“I'm fine. I'll manage.” Quinn said. 

“Rachel!”

One of the cast-mates yelled from three tables down. Rachel glanced at her again and Quinn sighed.

“Go. I'm a big girl.” Quinn said.

Rachel ran off and Quinn took a seat at the bar. She rested her hand in her hands on top of the bar counter, frowning. She didn't want to be here and while she wanted to leave, Rachel wanted her here and she was supposed to be a good friend. It's the least she can do, or try while she's sober. She placed an order for a cup of soda and sipped it, wishing she had spiked it with something to deal with her time alone. She finished the cup in minutes and debated with herself to get another, while staring into the ice cubes. 

“She managed to drag you out anyway?” 

Quinn's shoulders stiffened. 

“You aren't fooling anyone Q. I can see you.” Santana said. 

“What do you want Santana?” Quinn said. 

Santana chuckled. She took a seat next to her.

“I should be asking you that since you've been ghosting me all week.” Santana said. 

Quinn glared at her. She bit her lip, taking in Santana's black dress that stopped at her thighs and had a slit at the side. She had her hair up into a fish tail braid at the side. Quinn turned back to her soda.

“What are you doing here?” Quinn said.

“Rachel invited me. I mean, after all I'm the one to sign her on to the label.” Santana said. “I've been assigned her agent, if you even care.” 

Quinn scowled at her.

“Of course I care. She's my friend.” Quinn said. “You have a lot of nerve.” 

“I'm glad one of us has the balls. Instead of run off.” Santana said. 

Quinn faced her and glared.

“We are not talking about this here.” Quinn said. “It's Rachel's celebration.” 

“You've been ignoring my calls for a week. I won't be getting the chance to talk to you again once you leave.” Santana said. 

Quinn scoffed. 

“No.” She said.

“We need to talk about this.” Santana said. 

“There isn't anything to talk about.” Quinn said. “We...”

“Kissed and you liked it.” Santana said. 

Quinn glared. She got off her stool and marched through the dance floor. This is the last conversation she wanted to have, but Santana had been stubborn just as much as Quinn has been in high school. She wouldn't let it go. Santana grabbed Quinn by the wrist and turned her around.  
“What are you scared of?” She said. 

Quinn scoffed and clenched her jaw. Santana stared at her. Her expression soft. Quinn shook her head. 

“You don't understand.” Quinn said. 

“For once can you be honest with yourself?” Santana said. “Your dad doesn't control you anymore and I know what I felt when I kissed you.” 

Quinn gulped and looked at Santana. She sees years of unsaid feelings and sadness. Santana didn't look angry, an act Quinn found out earlier on it had been Santana's defense for many things. Quinn exhaled. 

“We were...” Quinn sighed. “It's different now.” 

“I know how you felt about me before you left McKinley.” Santana said. 

It's another topic she didn't want to face, even if she's right. Quinn had lived many years in denial of what she wanted all in favor of her parents. Quinn looked at her. The panic washed from her face. Santana stroked her forearm. 

“I felt the same way.” Santana said. “I always did.” 

Santana bit her bottom lip. The tension between them made her anxious. Quinn studied her. The years they've been together. Their years of friendship. And the only thing Quinn can see now is the times she's felt stronger feelings for Santana than she would as a friend. Down to the crushing blow she felt when she heard Santana had been dating Brittany when she came back for Christmas break. Then to see them together. The possibility how it could have been them instead of Brittany. Quinn pulled her into a kiss. The touch soft and cautious. Santana raked her fingers through Quinn's hair and cupped the back of her head. Quinn pulled away with a content sigh. Santana held Quinn closer by her hips.

“You deserve to be happy Quinn.” Santana said. 

“Can we leave?” Quinn said. 

“I'll drive you home.” Santana said. 

***

Quinn unlocked her condo door and stepped in. Santana stood in the hallway, hesitant. 

“Do you want to come in?” Quinn said.

Santana entered and she followed Quinn into the living room. Quinn clenched her hands, nervously biting her bottom lip as Santana came closer to her. She watched Quinn stand in front of her, her back stiff and her arms at her side. 

"Do I make you nervous?" Santana said.

Quinn gulped.

"No." She said.

Santana landed a kiss on her collar bone and Quinn moaned.The only thing Quinn thought about was the feel of Santana's skin against hers and the touch of her lips. Santana broke away and stroked Quinn's cheek. Her eyes hazy with desire. 

"You're a really good kisser." Quinn said.

Santana chuckled. Quinn took her hand and led her through the hall. Santana can see her bedroom through the moonlight and followed Quinn inside. They paused at the bed. 

“You're sure?” Santana whispered.

Quinn kissed her and nodded. 

“Yes.” She panted. 

***  
Quinn smiled, watching Santana sleep beside her, wrapped in her quilt. She stretched and got out of bed to bring a pitcher of water. She took a sip before laying back into bed beside Santana. She stayed, awake, looking Santana over, trying to remember as much as she could from the pervious night. Her phone goes off and a soft groan comes from Santana. Quinn hurried out of bed and answered the phone in her study.

“Rachel, what are you doing calling me at 10am?” Quinn said. 

She heard Rachel laugh. 

“I just wanted to give you a heads up. I'm at your apartment.” She said, before she hang out.

Quinn raced toward the door and stopped Rachel from ringing the doorbell. She blocked Rachel from entering.

“What are you doing here?” Quinn said. 

“You left early tomorrow. I felt bad, so I came with bagels.” Rachel said. “Are you gonna let me in or what?” 

She held up two brown paper bags. 

“What? No!” Quinn said. “I'm busy.” 

Rachel eyed her, wearily. 

“You're acting weird. Did you have a one-night stand last night?” Rachel said. 

Quinn let out a awkward laugh.

“Ha, of course not.” She said. “I just...I have work to do.” 

“Alright, fine.” Rachel said. 

She took two steps away and whipped back around, pushed Quinn back and entered. She inspected her apartment and Quinn ran after her. 

“Rachel, you can't barge in like that.” Quinn said. 

Rachel set the bags on the table and made coffee. 

“Will you calm down. I'm offering you a free breakfast for crying out loud.” Rachel said. 

She took out two plates and mugs. The coffee machine beeped. 

“Can you keep it down?” Quinn said. 

“What? It's just-” 

Rachel froze, seeing Santana enter the kitchen yawning and in one of Quinn's oversized t-shirts. She filled one of the cups and took half of a bagel that had extra bacon and took a bite. She slowly moved back into Quinn's room. 

“Hi Rachel.” She mumbled, before closing the door. 

Rachel turned to Quinn, speechless and Quinn's entire face was a striking hue of red. 

“Wait did you...you did! I can’t believe it.” Rachel said.

Quinn blushed. Rachel reached up and hugged her. 

“Oh this is great! This is amazing you and Santana-oh I'm so happy for you.” Rachel giggled. “How did this happen?”

Quinn shrugged, still embarrassed. 

“I don't know. It just sort of happened.” She said. “I’m really into her.”  
“Interesting choice of words considering you were in-”

“We are not talking about it.” Quinn said. 

Rachel laughed. 

“Well, I'm going to take my breakfast to go.” Rachel said. “And I'll let you spend your time with Santana. I'll see you for dinner.” 

Rachel took her bagel and left. Quinn picked up the sound of the running water from her shower and sat at the table to finish the remaining piece of her bagel. Santana came about out, forty-five minutes later in one of Quinn's pajamas and wrapped her arms around Quinn's hips. She kissed Quinn's temple. 

“So, Rachel knows about us.” Santana said. 

Quinn chuckled. 

“She's too nosy for her own good.” Quinn said. 

“And incredibly obnoxious.” Santana said. “She gave you a really good bagel though.” 

Quinn laughed and faced Santana. She pulled her down by her shirt and kissed her. Santana looked down at her, gazing into brown and green speckled eyes. 

“It doesn't bother you does it?” Santana said. 

“No,” Quinn said. “You were right you know? About me, needing to do what makes me happy. I really need to focus on what I want.” 

Santana smiled and stroked her cheek. 

“Yeah, what's that?” Santana said. 

“You.” Quinn said. “You make me happy. You always did.” 

Santana dipped down for another kiss.


End file.
